


Part 5: Loss

by addictcas



Series: Croatoan ABO 'verse [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (while making sigils), AU, AU: Endverse Dean is not a dick, Aftercare, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alpha Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Arguing, Bossy Castiel, Break Up, Chuck Shurley is Not God, Claiming Bites, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Depression, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s05e04 The End, Established Relationship, Fallen Castiel, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hallucinations, Hallucinogens, Human Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Bond, Mental Breakdown, Miscarriage, Mpreg, NEST - Freeform, Nearly Human Castiel, Nephilim, Nesting, Omega Castiel, Orgasm Denial, Paranoia, Possessive Dean, Post Mpreg, Protective Dean, Psychosis, Self-Hatred, Self-Lubrication, Self-Worth Issues, Sex Toys, Snarky Castiel, True Mates, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-16 11:50:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3487211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addictcas/pseuds/addictcas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Endverse AU) Castiel never wanted a baby, until he lost one.</p><p>(part of series but can be read alone)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Many people asked me to write an mpreg fic. So, sorry. This is what I came up with. :(
> 
> Thanks go to Scifiqueen1, who suggested both unexpected pregnancy discovered through miscarriage, and the idea of their baby being a nephilim.

 

“Dean.” Castiel groans out his mate's name, clenching around him as he bounces in the water, the smell of chlorine mingling with the scent of slick and arousal. Small, warm waves lap at Dean's neck, adding to the heat he feels from being inside Cas. The omega is breathing heavily, probably due to the temperature of the hot tub and the exertion it's taking him to ride Dean as hard as he is.

“ _Dean_.”

He sounds different now, desperate, and now Dean smells a faint hint of something else. Distress? He grabs his mate's hips, slowing his movement. He needs to figure out what's wrong.

“Dean!”

The alpha jerks upright in alertness. He's not in a hot tub at a luxurious resort. He's in bed, in his and Cas' cabin, in the middle of the goddamn apocalypse, and the weight of that hits him hard every single time he wakes up from a fantasy. It's worse this time, though, because all he can smell of their “home” is Castiel's fear.

“Something's wrong.” Cas sounds terrified, and Dean's eyes don't need to adjust to the darkness to see why. There's blue light seeping out from beneath his mate's skin. The kind of light that angels give off when they're _dying_. Horror claws at Dean's chest and the only thing that's stopping him from going into full-on cardiac arrest is the fact that the light is only coming from his abdomen.

“What the fuck is going on?” Dean asks, trying and failing to remain collected for Castiel's sake.

“I don't know, Dean. It hurts.”

Stay calm. Stay calm.

“Stay calm, Cas.”

Rain pounds at the windows and thunder rumbles nearby, adding to the grim atmosphere in the room. A flash of lightening illuminates the cabin, and when it's gone, so is the glowing of the omega's stomach. Cas' eyes flutter closed, and Dean has never felt so terrified in his life. His fingers fly to Cas' throat, and thank God, there's a pulse, quick but steady.

Dean shakes him roughly. “Cas?”

His mate's eyes open, his gaze unfocused.

“Look at me, baby.” Once Castiel does, Dean pulls the omega up against his side, wrapping a strong arm around his waist. “I'm gonna get you to the med cabin, wake up Jane, and get you fixed up. You're gonna be fine,” the alpha says, unsure of his own words.

The two of them are in only their boxers, and the storm has brought with it a cold front, so Dean leaves Cas swaying on the bed to grab him a jacket, not bothering to grab himself one because timing is crucial right now.

Dean is just slipping the coat over his mate's shoulders when their bedroom door swings open. It's Chuck, eyes wide and hair wet and flattened down against his head.

“He's okay,” the prophet says hurriedly.

“How the hell do you know?” Dean snaps and Chuck flinches.

“I had a vision.”

Which is weird and concerning; he hasn't had one of those since the angels left.

Dean lifts Cas off the bed, taking most of his weight.

“Then what the fuck is happening?”

Chuck takes a deep breath, and the Dean smells blood.

“Dean,” Castiel says shakily, gripping Dean's shoulder tightly.

“Cas, what's wrong? Where are you bleeding?”

The prophet looks down and when Dean follows his gaze he sees rivulets of blood trickling down the inside of his mate's thighs. The smell of Castiel's panic is clouding his senses, and he just barely catches the word “miscarriage,” coming from Chuck.

Cas isn't dying, he losing a baby.

“He was glowing, why was he glowing?” Dean demands, and then he realizes. It wasn't the omega who was lighting up, it was the fetus. “Chuck, did we... did we make a nephilim?”

Castiel falls.


	2. Chapter 2

“He's not an angel,” Dean repeats for the third time, pacing and staring at his mate, who lies pale and sweaty on the med cabin bed.

“He's not completely human,” Chuck explains again like he's talking to a child.

There have been a few signs to back his theory up. Lights flickering during sex, a burst bulb during a particularly heated argument. But they always wrote it off as coincidence.

“There's no other way this could have happened, Dean.” The prophet tells them.

“There could be traces of grace in me still,” Cas says wistfully, as if he could somehow muster up the strength to sprout wings again. This unsettles Dean, because if his mate is still an angel, and if he could channel that energy, he could leave him to go back to Heaven like he deserves. Get the fuck out of this shitstorm. “I'm just not powered-up enough to feel it.”

“I thought you were on birth control,” Dean says, changing the course of the conversation because the current topic is making him uneasy.

“I was,” Cas tells him defensively. “I _am_.”

“You didn't skip any by mistake?” He takes so many goddamn pills it's a wonder he can keep any of them straight.

“No. I'm not incompetent.”

“Birth control can sometimes be less effective with true mates,” Jane explains.

Dean stops pacing and stands next to the bed. He brushes some damp hair off of Castiel's forehead. His mate looks so small in the loose-fitting hospital gown, IV in one arm.

“Having a kid in the middle of an apocalypse wouldn't end well,” Dean tells him. “This is for the best.”

The devastated look on his mate's face hardens into a stone-cold glare.

“Get out.”

Dean looks to Chuck, then to Jane, seeing that they look about as shocked as he is.

“What?”

“I said get out,” the omega snaps harshly.

Dean had only meant for it to make Cas feel better, but now he can tell by his mate's glower and the sour scent of his rage that he only thoroughly pissed him off.

“You know it's true,” Dean says stupidly instead of apologizing like he should.

“There is no way that the loss of an innocent life is 'for the best.'”

“Did you even want a baby?” Dean asks, digging his hole a little deeper.

“No.”

“Then I don't know what the big deal is.”

Jane sighs audibly and Chuck honest-to-God slaps a palm to his forehead. The alpha knows he's fucked.

“Get. The fuck. Out. You insensitive asshole,” Cas bites out, and then the lights are flickering. If that isn't a sign that his mate has some remnants of grace left, Dean doesn't know what is. And that scares the shit out of Dean.

“Fine.” He makes his way towards the door, despite his natural instinct to stay with his omega, to comfort him.

Cas must be absolutely furious, because before Dean even grabs the knob the door swings open, nearly hitting him in the face. Dean hurries out, slamming the door behind him and heading out into the rain.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean sits outside of the med cabin for two and a half hours, drenched and freezing his ass off as he watches the sky go from dark, bleak gray to light, bleak gray until Jane comes out and tells him that Cas says he can come back inside.

When he gets up and walks toward the door she asks, “Don't you want to go back to your cabin and change?"

He's only in his soaked boxers, probably giving everyone who sees him a nice show of the goods, but he needs to be with is mate _now_.

“Nah, I'm fine.”

Jane rolls her eyes as if to say “stupid, stubborn alpha,” and gestures him inside. “Let me at least give you a gown. I don't want you to come complaining to me when you catch a cold.”

Dean agrees with and thanks her; it seems like a good idea. Not because he doesn't want to get sick, but because he wants to lie down with Cas, to hold him, if his omega lets him. Jane hands him a gown as Dean enters and looks at the fallen angel, who's not meeting his eyes. The nurse heads into the back room, giving them privacy.

Cas stares at him warily as he strips out of the wet fabric.

“While I appreciate the strip show, I'm really not in the mood.”

And yeah, Dean supposes he has every right to be cranky. When the hospital gown is on Dean approaches the bed cautiously.

“How are you feeling?”

Castiel glares at him, but it's half-hearted. “How do you _think_ I'm feeling?”

“I figured as much,” the alpha says. “How much of that has to do with me?”

His mate sighs, looking like he has no fight left in him. “Not as much anymore.”

“Can I lay down with you?”

Castiel doesn't answer but he slides over and rolls onto his side, back facing Dean, who climbs in behind him, wrapping the omega up in his arms.

“I'm really sorry, Cas.” He's had a lot of time to think, freezing out his punishment out in the storm, and about three minutes in Dean realized what a dick he had been.

“For what, oh fearless leader?”

Dean hates when his mate calls him that, and Cas knows it.

“For being an insensitive asshole.”

“Yes, that is what you were.” He doesn't immediately forgive him, but he doesn't sound angry anymore. Just defeated. Dean sees a bottle of whiskey on the table next to the bed, which may have something to do with his calmer disposition.

The alpha doesn't know what else to say, so he holds Cas tighter, feeling the tremors in his omega's muscles. If the smell of his pain is overwhelming and making Dean feel like drinking half a bottle of hunter's helper, he can't imagine the grief his mate is experiencing.

“I never thought I could miss something I didn't even know I had,” Castiel says sadly. “Something I never even wanted."

“Do you now?” Dean asks, already knowing the answer.

“I do. But Dean, you were right. We can't bring a child into this life. It would be cruel."

Maybe, just _maybe_ if Dean had said yes to Michael, put an end to Lucifer, Cas would have been able to have a normal life. He wouldn't loyally follow a sad excuse for a leader, wouldn't turn into a broken shell of what he once was. He could have a husband, or a wife, and raise happy, healthy children. He wouldn't be popping pills and snorting coke or lost in a haze of self-loathing and depression. The omega could be _happy_. But Dean fucked that dream up to shit because he couldn't kill his brother. His brother who is most likely burnt out of existence, so what good did saying no do? All his selfish decision brought was the death of millions by a demonic virus and a shattered fallen angel.

“How about I make you a deal?” the alpha asks, wanting desperately to give hope to his mate.

“And what deal would that be?” Castiel responds skeptically.

“When this is all over, if— _when_ we defeat Lucifer, we'll try for a baby.”

The omega's scent of despair lightens just a little bit at that.

“You mean that?”

Dean kisses the back of his neck, still damp with sweat. “Yeah, Cas. I do.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter depicts an unhealthy sex scene with orgasm denial as a form of punishment. There is no non-con or dub-con, just a lot of angst.

Two weeks. It's been two weeks since that awful night. And two weeks since Dean has knotted him. The only thing more crushing than losing the life that was inside of him is the distance it's putting between Cas and his mate.

The alpha has been going on an increasing amount of missions and supply runs, abandoning Cas to all of the chemicals he's been putting into his body more frequently than ever. Even more than when he lost his wings. He gets a phantom ache at the thought.

Dean used to try to get him clean, before he realized that the drugs and the booze and the sex were what kept him going when the reality of what was happening had him spiraling in and out of suicidal ideation, wishing his heart would give out or he would be killed by a croat or smote by Lucifer. He lost his family, his grace, and Dean, and with those his will to live.

And now he feels like he's losing them all over again. He barely smells his mate on himself anymore when it used to cling to him like heavy cologne. Cas is probably driving him away with the thick cloud of his depression that's slowly suffocating them both.

Dean is with him now, though, three fingers deep and massaging the omega's prostate.

“Fuck me,” Cas groans for what feels like the hundredth time in the past few days.

The alpha slows his ministrations and rests a sweaty forehead on the back of Castiel's neck. “I'm sorry, Cas. I can't.”

“And why the hell not?” Castiel rolls onto his back and his mate slides his fingers out. “I'm on a stronger birth control. The chances of me getting knocked up again are slim to none.”

It's the same argument they've been having every time Dean stays in the cabin long enough to be intimate with him. Like always, Dean stays silent. And then it all dawns on Cas.

“You think I'm trying to get pregnant again.”

His mate doesn't deny it, just crosses an arm over his face as if that could shut out this conversation. The frustration that's been building inside of Cas burns up into pure anger.

“You asshole,” he snaps. “Do you think that if I were trying to conceive a child I would be popping pills and downing whiskey all day? That's how I killed the first one.”

Dean moves his arm and stares at his mate with wide eyes. “Jesus, Cas, you think you—that wasn't your fault.”

The omega ignores him and presses forward. “And what, you think I've been throwing out the birth control or something?”

“I didn't—” Dean flounders, looking thoroughly out of his element. “It's just that you were so broken up about the miscarriage. You told me that now you want a baby.”

Cas takes a moment to picture what they would have had, had the world not been ending. His anger is chipped away just a little bit by sadness.

“I've learned the hard way that we can't always get what we want, especially during a fucking apocalypse.”

The omega might be imagining it, but he thinks he sees Dean's eyes get a little glossy. “Cas, I'm sorry.”

But it's not okay, not yet.

A petty part of Cas wants to put Dean through a little bit of what he's been going though: not getting what he needs sexually from his mate. Not getting their closeness they used to share so well.

He reaches between his legs and collects slick on his hand, wrapping it around Dean's cock and coaxing it back to hardness.

“Cas, what are you—”

“Shh,” the omega whispers, thumbing his mate's slit and making him arch off the bed. He takes a few minutes to do everything that drives Dean crazy, practiced flicks of his wrist, sucking marks over the scar tissue of Castiel's claiming bites where his neck is most sensitive. Dean starts thrusting up into his hand, moaning and chanting Cas' name the whole time.

“Cas, baby, I'm sorry. Let me knot you, please.”

The omega stills his hand and removes from Dean's erection completely. The sound of his mate begging to take him, to give him what he's been wanting for two weeks, is turning him on like nothing else, but he's got a plan and he's sticking to it.

“No,” he says firmly. Dean's eyes fly open.

“What?”

“You don't get to knot me.” Cas climbs across Dean to get to the nightstand, making sure to drag his cock over his alpha's in the process. He grabs a knotted vibrator from the drawer and settles back onto his side of the bed. “You don't get to come at all.”

“Cas.” His mate's eyes darken and pain flashes across his features but he doesn't argue. He squirms, though, when Castiel pushes the toy in and turns on the vibrator, letting out his most obscene moan. It slides in easily enough after Dean's skilled fingers worked him open.

“Fuck,” Cas groans, clenching around the device experimentally. It feels good, sure, but on a shallow, cold level. The plastic is nothing compared to the flesh of Dean's cock. He feels like he's dying with the need to be filled up by his mate, who he keeps his eyes trained on, as painful as it is. Dean's pupils are blown wide with lust and he's panting, watching the fake knot as Cas slowly, so slowly, fucks himself with it. The alpha reaches down and palms his dick, but Castiel bats away his hand with a heated, “No.”

“Please, Cas.”

“We can't risk you—” The omega is cut off with a gasp as the vibrator hits his prostate. “We can't risk you falling prey to my ulterior motives.” The words feel so harsh on his tongue, and the devastated look on his mate's face tells him he hit his mark. Cas should feel better about that—he's so _angry_ —but it just makes him feel hollow.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll tell it to you a million times if I have to. You don't want me to come, fine. At least let me touch you, get my mouth on your cock, my tongue inside you, anything. I want to make you feel good.”

Cas cries out, not from the toy but from the filth falling from Dean's lips. He doesn't give anything away, though, choosing to run his fingers gently over his nipples, biting his lip hard as his alpha fists the sheets and makes restrained little thrusts into nothing.

“I don't need your mouth, or your fingers, or your knot,” Castiel spits out, but he's lying. He's aching for his mate and he wants to let Dean come if only for the selfish reason that it's one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen.

He looks away from the alpha's eyes and down to the rest of his body; he's flushed from face to chest to swollen cock, precome leaking from the tip. Cas focuses on that, imagines the unique taste of it on his tongue as he thrusts the toy deeper and harder, nailing his prostate each time. The fake knot keeps catching on his rim, making it difficult to remain in control. The pressure of his orgasm his building hot and low inside him and he knows he won't last much longer.

“ _Dean_ ,” Cas moans accidentally, and it's the way that his mate's breath hitches and his fingers dig themselves further into the sheets and a pearl of precome drips from the tip of his cock that pushes the omega over the edge. He screws his eyes shut and arches off of the bed, pushing the button at the base of the vibrator that expands the knot as waves of pleasure are wrenched from his body. His vision whites out and when it passes he turns off the vibration setting and catches his breath. He's full to the brim but he feels so empty. Orgasms are always followed by the warmth of his mate's body.

Cas looks over to Dean. The alpha is trembling and his chest is heaving and there are ropes of come across his stomach. His hands are still gripping the sheets. The realization that Dean came untouched just from watching Cas fuck himself with a toy is enough to send a weak pulse of come out of his spent cock.

Dean's eyes widen and his face reddens as he looks down at the mess on his stomach, as if he hadn't even noticed. “Shit, Cas, I didn't mean to—”

“Goodnight, Dean,” Castiel says, feigning annoyance. He's not so much disappointed that his mate came as he is that he missed the sight of him coming completely undone without even a hand on him.

Dean doesn't respond, just gets up out of bed and Cas thinks that this is it, he's pushed him him too far, he's not coming back to their bed tonight, maybe ever. He clumsily shakes two Ambien out of an orange bottle and takes a few swigs of hunter's helper, hoping he'll be asleep or unconscious before he has to hear Dean's boots thudding out the front door. Instead, he hears the sound of bare feet padding back to him and when he opens his eyes there's his mate, not in his shoes and jacket but in boxers, holding a wet towel that he then uses to wipe off Cas. He looks hurt and ashamed, emotions that are definitely mirrored by Cas, but not angry. Not on the verge of saying “screw it” and finding someone less fucked-up than the omega he tied himself to.

When Dean is finished cleaning Cas he tosses the cloth to the floor and rolls on his side, back to Cas, and turns out the light.

The omega pulls the hard plastic toy out from his body and throws it to the floor in disgust. His volatile human emotions are rearing their ugly heads as Cas recounts the past hour. The deceit his mate thought Castiel was capable of and the cruelty they both found out Castiel was capable of. Dean had apologized several times and Cas had assumed it was just about sex, but the way he hadn't touched himself and the way he cared for Cas afterward proved him wrong. Now _he_ wants to apologize, to whisper “I'm sorry” over and over into his alpha's hair as he holds and is held. But something just became broken between the two of them and Cas needs to sort things through when he doesn't feel flayed and raw and as if he would sob instead of speak if he were to open his mouth. So he keeps his body away from the warmth and comfort of Dean's but reaches a hand out into the dark until it finds his mate's bicep, gripping the brand he had, as a mighty celestial being, burned into the Righteous Man's flesh as he pulled him out of the pit. Castiel's hand is so human and insignificant now, but Dean sighs and lays one of his own over it, and for now, it's enough.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains psychosis and paranoia as a result of drug abuse.

They should have talked about things. Dean should have put the supply run on hold, or sent the group on without him so that he and Cas could try to mend the painful rift that was torn between them.

He woke up this morning cold, with just the warmth of his mate's hand on his shoulder, right over the handprint. He knew Cas hadn't slept at all because a sleeping Cas always turned into a clingy octopus during the night, whether they went to bed on good terms or not.

The omega's eyes were bloodshot when he told Dean he was coming on the mission with him—red from crying or lack of sleep or drugs, or worse, a combination of the three. Cas was in no state to leave camp and Dean should have stayed with him, tried to fix things. He should have been there to make sure his mate didn't do anything self-destructive. But then, Dean was never any good at protecting Cas from himself.

So he kissed the omega on the forehead and said, “No. Stay here. I'll be back tonight,” and went off to play hero like the absolute coward that he is.

So it's terrifying but sadly not surprising to know that Cas got himself into some kind of trouble in the twelve hours Dean was gone for. He has no idea what happened or how bad it is; Chuck had simply rushed to Dean and said, “You need to get to your cabin, now,” and the alpha was off, all sorts of horrifying scenarios, mostly involving overdose or alcohol poisoning or ways Cas could have tried or succeed to kill himself. He didn't expect anything close to what awaited him in their cabin.

There's a salt line in front of their door and on the window sills and blood all over the walls (too much, way too much), warding sigils against demons and angels and who knows what the fuck else, there's so many of them. A ring of salt surrounds the bed, where Cas is kneeling, a bandage wrapped around his forearm, clutching Risa, who is patting his back awkwardly. She looks confused and terrified and Dean is right there with her. The scent of distress and anxiety is so thick that the alpha could cut it with a knife.

“What the hell is going on?” he asks as he crosses the salt circle and approaches the bed.

Risa mutters, “Oh, thank God,” and then Cas is grabbing Dean and yanking him onto the bed by his jacket collar. Risa takes the opportunity to try to sneak away, but the omega reaches out and grabs her ankle.

“It's not safe!”

Dean looks at her questioningly. If there were any real danger she would be in full-on alpha mode, not staring back at Dean with wide, nervous eyes.

“Cas, let her go.” He puts enough authority into his voice that his mate lets go of Risa's ankle. She high-tails it to the door, sending Cas into a panic. He grabs a box of salt and reinforces the circle that Risa had run through.

“Cas, what the fuck is going on?”

The omega curls in on himself, tangling his fingers in his hair and pulling. Dean grabs his hands and pulls them away, holding them in his own.

“Calm down. Tell me what's happening.”

Cas pulls his mate close and buries his face in his shirt. “I'm being punished,” he says, sounding more shattered than Dean has ever heard him, save for the night his brothers and sisters gave earth the finger and flew back to Heaven.

“How? And what's with all the warding?”

“Demons,” Cas gasps between hurried breaths. “The camp is possessed.”

Dean's head is spinning, protective instincts weighing him down, grounding him. None of this is making sense.

“Why would demons be punishing you?” Sure, they've pissed off a lot of demons, but they wouldn't be able to waltz right past all of the guards and wardings.

“God sent them.”

That makes even less sense. “God doesn't send demons to do his dirty work.”

“He did... because my family is no longer here to carry out his orders.”

The smell of Cas' fear is cloying and laced with the scents of weed and alcohol. There's more to it, though. Dean looks at the bottles of pills and bags of powder littering their bed.

“What did you take?”

The omega leans back and shakes his head, eyes skittering and unfocused. “I don't—it doesn't matter. It opened my eyes, Dean. I can see their true faces again.” His gaze travels over Dean's shoulder to the window.

The alpha grips his mate's chin and tries to get his eyes on him. “Look at me, Cas. There's no demons out there. You're having a really bad trip. Let me get you something to drink.”

“I have—” the fallen angel starts, reaching behind himself and grabbing a bottle of whiskey off of the bed. Dean pulls it away before Cas can uncap it.

“No way in hell am I letting you put more shit into your body right now.” He plans on going to the mess hall to get Gatorade, normally saved for the children and the sick, but Dean has no idea when Cas last drank something less than eighty proof.

“You can't leave the circle,” the omega says, gripping Dean's arms.

The alpha feels and smells his frustration building. “Do you realize how crazy you sound right now?” He mentally kicks himself the moment Cas lets go and looks down at his hands.

“Crazy. That's what they're saying.”

“Shit, Cas. They're not—that's not true.” Dean's frustration crumbles away into ruins, leaving an even darker feeling. Even his mate's scent has changed. His anxiety is now clouded with such anguish that tells Dean he was lucky to have someone step in before Cas did something more drastic to harm himself.

“Crazy. Worthless. Murderer.”

The last word sends Dean reeling. He knew they needed to talk about the guilt Cas was feeling. But he put it off, too scared of all the potent emotions such a conversation would carry, and now they're doing it now, with Cas high on fuck knows what and hallucinating. And crying now, Jesus.

The omega speaks again before Dean has a chance to get a grip and say something, anything, to make this better.

“I'm an unfit mate. A mess. I'm not worth it. You'll find someone better, it's just a matter of time.”

And that... that hurts him in places he didn't know existed until now. Dean Winchester, crowned king of abandonment issues, never thought of Cas as insecure. The problems are all building up now and he has no idea which one to try to tackle first. He grabs his mate's face, trying to wipe away some of the tears, and kisses him. He pours as much affection as he can into it and when Dean pulls away, Cas touches his lips in confusion, as if he expected to be left and forgotten at his confession. The alpha doesn't let go of his face.

“We've been through a lot of shit, Cas. But I have never, ever doubted our bond.”

Cas shakes his head, trying to pull away.

“And you're not any more of a murderer than I am. I torture demons, Cas.”

“You're wrong,” the omega says, wrenching Dean's hands away. “We created life and I destroyed it.” He's angry, but Dean knows it's directed inwards. “My body is uninhabitable because I made it that way. I killed an innocent soul and now God is punishing me for it.”

The alpha pushes the damp hair out of Cas' face, feeling a crushing feeling in his chest for his mate. “You didn't know. And we're not even sure what happened. Healthy, sober and clean people have miscarriages all the time. It sucks, but it just happens.”

“I should have known. I should have sensed it somehow, with my grace...”

Castiel's breathing quickens and Dean touches two fingers to the pulse point on his neck. The omega's heart is hammering.

“Deep breaths, baby. Come on. Do some of that yoga breathing shit you make me do. Let me grab you a bottle of water.” Dean pulls Ruby's knife out of his holster and shows it to Cas. “Just to the kitchen. Nothing bad is gonna happen.”

The omega wraps himself in a blanket and nods his head. “Okay.”

Dean gets up slowly, afraid to startle his mate, and goes to get him a drink. Cas tenses as he walks away, then relaxes just a little bit when he crosses back into the salt circle.

“They won't stop,” Cas says as Dean pushes the water bottle into his hand. “Not until they get me. I should let them.”

“That's enough,” the alpha says sternly. He can't have Cas giving up, not after all they've been through. Fighting, dying, mating. “Drink.”

Castiel does as he's told, downing nearly half the bottle before screwing the cap back on and setting it on the bed.

“Okay, good. Why don't we lie down, get some rest.”

“I don't think I can,” Cas tells him, fidgeting and looking around nervously.

Dean isn't sure if it's a good idea or not but he digs through their nightstand drawer until he finds a bottle of sleeping pills. It seems like Cas took mostly uppers and whatever hallucinogenic drug he got his hands on, so a pill or two shouldn't do much damage.

“Take these, okay?”

The omega eyes them warily. “I don't want to fall asleep. What if the demons get in?”

Dean doesn't even bother explaining again that the camp is full of completely hellspawn-free humans, some of them more or less respectable, but still alone in their meatsuits. He gestures around the room. “Look at all of this warding. Nothing supernatural is getting through that door.”

Cas nods his head in a jerking motion and takes the pills dry, then climbs underneath the covers. Dean follows, pulling his mate against his chest.

It takes about a half hour for the omega's heartbeat to slow to a more normal level and his muscles to slightly loosen. Dean stays awake until he knows Cas is asleep before succumbing to fatigue himself, inhaling the comforting smell of his mate's more neutral, sweet scent.


	6. Chapter 6

The stream always makes Cas feel better, so as soon as they woke up this morning Dean suggested he go out and bathe in the cool water. The omega woke up with one hell of a hangover, understandably. He wouldn’t talk about the breakdown or what he took, just barely made it to the toilet before vomiting. After tense silence and a forced Gatorade binge session, Castiel agreed that the stream might help.

Dean didn’t make an offer to go with him and his mate didn’t ask. The alpha needed time, time to set up something he should have provided for Cas a long time ago.

The quality of blankets and pillows is nowhere good enough for a suitable nest, but he has to work with what he’s got which is a reserve of looted linens, some of which have children's cartoon characters on them, and a pile of Cas’ old blankets and pillows from his cabin, ones that didn’t reek of past lovers.

Dean piles the pillows and blankets in a cozy protective circle, fluffing them and rearranging them obsessively until it somewhat resembles a bonding nest.

He knows he doesn’t have much time because Cas was looking at his mate all paranoid like Dean was some sketchy asshole who was pushing him out so Dean could sneak out and find someone to fool around with for an hour or so. The omega is so insecure right now, that may have been what he was thinking. He runs and grabs a bottle of wine from the makeshift chapel cabin that nobody really uses anymore because hope and faith are things of the past now.

Dean is just finishing pouring the glasses when Cas comes through the front door, hair dripping and eyes sad but looking a little more alert than earlier. It takes him a moment to look around before he notices the nest. The omega’s eyes widen just a little bit and his lips part.

“Dean... is that-?”

Dean brings over their glasses and gestures for his mate to sit down on the bed.

“I’m sorry, I should have done this a long time ago. I haven’t been a good mate, I’m supposed to provide-”

Castiel puts his hand up to silence Dean. “Stop. You have a lot on your plate, Dean. You’re taking care of a hundred people, you risk your life time and time again for people who don’t even appreciate you.”

They sit down together and Dean hands Cas his glass of wine.

“You should come first. I’ve made mistakes, I haven’t been here for you; I know that now. I threw you aside when you fell, too absorbed in Sam’s betrayal. I watched you get addicted to drugs, be used...”

Cas tips his drink back and downs it in a few gulps, then sets it on the bedside table. “Don’t blame yourself for my failures.” He looks down away from Dean and starts picking at the bandage on his arm where he sliced it open to ward the cabin with sigils. It’s still hard to look at the walls and windows.

“Failures? Cas, the angels left you. You had everything taken away from you and you didn’t know how to cope. All you had was a shitty excuse for a friend who was so full of hatred and alcohol that he couldn’t see past the barrel of his gun.”

“I must be such a disappointment,” the omega says, taking his mate’s wine and chugging it down. “I used to be righteous, powerful. I could heal you effortlessly, I could be anywhere in a heartbeat. I could smite demons. I was light. Power.”

“That Cas was handy, yes, but I don’t care. I’m with you for who you are now, a-”

“Depressed, hopeless, useless junkie who took the life of a baby with his own self-indulgence.”

Dean feels a sharp, dark stabbing in his chest, a longing to comfort, to reassure, but the look on Cas’ face tells him that nothing he can say or do will make a difference.

“I appreciate this, Dean,” the omega says, gesturing around the bed. “I really do. But I don’t deserve it. Don’t waste your time and effort trying to convince me that you want to be with me.”

Dean's breath hitches and he reaches out for Cas’ face to kiss him but his mate pulls away.

“But I do, Cas.”

He’s terrified of what’s coming next, what his mate will do if he doesn’t believe him. Something drastic and impulsive.

“No, you don’t. You pity me. You think you owe me a debt, for pulling you out of Hell, for staying on earth with you, but you don’t.”

Cas stands up and Dean’s head spins, feeling like he drank the whole bottle of wine when he never even got a sip. He’s clouded with his mate’s despair. And then Cas walks to the closet and pulls out his worn-out duffel bag.

“What the hell are you doing?” Dean snaps. He regrets his harsh tone immediately; if he is going to convince his mate to stay, he can’t make it seem like the omega’s delusions are true.

Cas looks at him, face stone-cold, and starts gathering his meager belongings.

“What’s best for us. I’m leaving so you don’t have to.”

Dean throws himself off the bed and grabs Cas, causing him to drop the bottle of pills he was pulling off the nightstand.

“This is bullshit, Cas. I don’t pity you, I don’t feel indebted to you, I… I love you, and I know I never say it, but it’s true.”

Cas shakes his head and shrugs Dean off and the alpha feels what’s left of his shambled life dissolving. The one person he never thought would leave him is joining all of the others.

“You’ll find someone better, Dean. Someone who is whole enough to provide for you.”

“Look around, Cas! Everybody here is broken!”

The omega doesn’t physically show any emotional reaction, but his heavy scent of depression betrays him.

“I suppose you’re right,” he says as he reaches under the bed where he keeps his bong and a box of assorted hallucinogens. “But you’ll find someone better. And I don’t want you to have to face the guilt of choosing them over me.”

Cas picks up some clothes off of the floor and zips up his duffel. The grinding sound of the old metal sends a grim sense of finality to Dean and he fights back tears.

“I don’t know what’s going through your head right now, but you’re making a huge mistake.”

Cas walks up to Dean, expression blank, eyes dry, and gives him a brief kiss.

“No. I’m not.”

The alpha’s tears fall now as his mate backs away and turns the front door knob.

“Cas.” Dean's voice breaks and he feels embarrassed by his composure while Cas remains outwardly apathetic.

“I’ll be in my cabin. I’ll still come on missions if you’ll have me. I’ll help where I can.” He looks back at Dean and the alpha sees just a fracture of pain in his expression.

“Goodbye, Dean.”

And then the door closes and Dean goes to the first bottle of alcohol he can find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this chapter with intent to make a cute comforting scene, and then... well... fuck. I don't even know. No excuses, please feel free to hate me.
> 
> This ends "Loss." Next installment will be ready shortly. You'll forgive me eventually, I promise.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have more ideas on what you would like to see in this series, just leave me a comment, I'll take it into consideration. <3
> 
> -Natalie


End file.
